Inherent Fate

by Geanna Culbertson

  The wail that followed was all pain. As smoke poured from its mouth and the creature clawed at its face, it staggered back toward the crumbling ledge.

  I rushed forward, slammed my spear down on the lobster’s head, then channeled all my strength and fury as I used my staff like a bat to smack the side of the lobster’s face. The creature was knocked on its side, landing on the ledge. Its impact was strong enough to cause the widening crack to break off completely. In an avalanche of rock, it went tumbling down the cliff.

  Transforming my wand and storing it, I did not delay in going after the monster. I grabbed the new ledge with one hand, swung down, then released my grip and plummeted a few feet before my boots hit ground and I broke into a run.

  I descended the mountain faster than proper safety procedures would advise. But I didn’t care about being careful. The creature was toppling through the forest now, but the way it was screeching told me it was still very much alive and it was only a matter of time before it righted itself and scampered away. That was not an option, not while it had Daniel.

  When the ground started to even out, the lobster crashed into a pine tree big enough to break its fall. Just as I’d predicted, the lobster was rattled, but rapidly shook off the disorientation and flipped back to its feet.

  It started zipping through the woods with increased urgency. I ran faster; my heartbeat thumped louder; my breathing hastened. Reds, greens, and the darkness of shadows blurred around me as my breath got caught in my throat. I swallowed down the frigid air as my legs throbbed from the speed and the jolting friction of the bumpy terrain.

  I heard the sound of rushing water. A glance to my right revealed a thin waterfall about a hundred meters over—peeking through the trees and pouring into a lake.

  When I looked up a moment later I saw where the creature was heading. In the depths of the forest—somewhere in the armpit of the mountains—was a fortress. Its outer wall was composed of colossal wooden spikes. Sturdy oak bars bolstered its window frames. Upper floors featured patios covered by thick tarps that rustled about in the wind. And the entire compound’s roof was paneled with giant sheets of mirrors.

  The lobster whimpered and scratched at the front door of the fortress like a dog locked out of its home. The door rose steadily in response. A brilliant light exuded from within. I quickened my pace, but the lobster scurried inside and the door lowered before I could reach it.

  When I arrived at the fortress I banged on the door angrily. I didn’t think about where I was or who might be in there. All I cared about was getting Daniel back. No monster or villain could compare to the fire I was feeling.

  I heard the sound of latches and metal chains unwinding inside. The door rose once more. The bright luminescence poured out. It was so intense in contrast to the post-sundown sky that I felt disoriented and blinded. It was like meeting the sun’s younger sibling.

  When my eyes refocused I saw a girl coming to meet me. Her pants were thick and dirty beige. She wore a vest made of brown fur over a flowing crème-colored shirt. Black leather gloves covered her hands and matched the weapon-wielding utility belts hanging from her waist. Her head was wrapped in a turban-style headscarf that only allowed me to see her intense, dark orange eyes.

  “Your monster has my friend,” I said crossly.

  The girl undid her headscarf to get a better look at me. Golden, curly locks spilled down her shoulders. She huffed at my accusation and waved me forward. “Come in,” she said.

  She flipped a lever on the side wall and the door began to lower again. I had no choice but to hurry in after her.

  My hostess continued to move swiftly down the corridors of the fortress without waiting for me. I pursued her but found it difficult. The inside of the compound was so bright it was dizzying. The primary source of radiation came from enormous panels of light that made up every inch of the ceiling. It was as if someone had stripped a star of its epidermis and cemented it here.

  After a minute my eyes managed to adjust to the light. Thank goodness. This place was difficult enough to navigate without being blind. The elaborate corridors twisted and turned sharply like a maze.

  In careful pursuit of the twenty-something girl who’d let me in, my boots pounded against the floors. They were wooden like the walls and were covered in animal pelts. I jumped slightly when I nearly stepped on the face of a goatskin rug. Its mouth was open and its petrified eyes were staring at me.

  “Where are you going?” I called after the girl.

  She didn’t respond, turning down the hall and out of sight.

  “Hey!” I picked up speed, getting more frustrated with every step. “Hey, blondie! I’m talking to you!”

  I turned the corner but skidded to a halt to avoid ramming into the girl, who had stopped. She gave me an amused, thin smirk as she tucked a curl of hair behind her ear. “Actually, it’s Goldilocks. But I get that all the time.”

  itting in Goldilocks’s grand dining room—so big you’d think she held regular banquets—I couldn’t help but think of Madame Lisbon, my Damsels in Distress teacher. I realized that I was inadvertently sitting with the perfect posture I’d been trained to hold whenever attending a tea party. It was an uncontrollable reflex—like a dog howling at the moon or a boxer throwing a punch when someone sneak-attacks them from behind. My professor would be so proud.

  Goldilocks set a plate of biscuits and a teacup on a furry coaster in front of me. She poured tea into it. I cringed—both from the smell of the hot leaf juice (which I’d always detested) and the realization that the coaster was a flattened coyote paw, dyed blue. It was gross and disturbing, but I guess it matched the rest of the room.

  I shifted uncomfortably as Goldilocks went to the other side of the table and poured her own cup of tea. Animal pelts hung from the walls and covered the entire floor like a disturbing patchwork quilt. There were also giant stuffed animals everywhere—not the cute kind, but the taxidermy kind. Fully grown bears, wolves, deer, raccoons, and other woodland creatures covered every surface. While the huge ones like the bears stood upright—mouths open and teeth exposed in mid-growl—the smaller creatures were placed on tables and shelves. My eyes lingered on a pair of matching squirrel bookends before a low, muffled snore drew my attention.

  The only non-dead creature in the room aside from me and Goldilocks was the lobster monster. It was lying on a plush bed the size of three mattresses by the fireplace. I guess it must’ve been tired from the attack. The creature was now sound asleep and looked like it was having an intense dream from the way its legs were twitching. It would have been cute if it wasn’t for its orifice full of sharp teeth and the fact that it had somehow captured Daniel through its giant pincer needles.

  The frown on my lips tightened as I stared at the orbs on the creature’s spine. Six were filled with golden, whirring energy. They looked more ominous illuminated in the firelight. I felt my heart quicken and my throat stiffen as I focused on the orb that Daniel had been sucked into.

  Please be okay, I thought as I dug my nails into the oak table.

  I quickly pivoted back toward Goldilocks, knowing full well it would be a mistake to take my eyes off her for more than a moment.

  While Goldilocks had initially made a name for herself by breaking into the home of three bears and becoming the world’s youngest squatter, this breaking-and-entering incident was only her first account of law breaking. As she got older, her criminal activity had increased in frequency and severity to the point that she became the head of one of the most notorious crime rings in the kingdom of Coventry. There had never been confirmation of how many heists and murders she’d been behind, but the rumors were horrifying. It took years for realm security and the Fairy Godmothers to catch her. When they finally did, her offenses landed her in Alderon.

  And now I’m having tea with her.

  Great.

  “So, protagonist,” Goldilocks said menacingly. “What brings you to Alderon? Business or pleasure?”

  I didn
’t bother wondering how she knew what I was. I figured my clothes had given me away like Daniel said.

  Goldilocks’s eyes gleamed like the polished, fifteen-foot-long wooden table between us. Even from a distance I could see her irises blazing.

  She reached for a pile of papers and magazines beside her place setting. She pushed aside a few periodicals before picking up a newspaper, which she regarded for a moment and then tossed in my direction. The newspaper slid across the table past a couple of empty candleholders and a candelabra made from eight chipmunks whose noses protruded into lit candlewicks. The newspaper came to rest next to my teacup.

  The light was so intense from the massive panels on the ceiling that it made the periodical almost impossible to read. I fixed my gaze as best I could.

  The newspaper was opened to a page that said, “Wanted.” Four large photographs with accompanying descriptions were printed on the page. Staring back at me were the faces of Daniel, Jason, Blue, and yours truly. I instantly thought it was strange that SJ’s picture wasn’t there as well. It reminded me that she was the only one of us who didn’t have a folder in Arian’s bunker below the Capitol Building.

  I raised my eyebrows and picked up the periodical to read the copy aloud. “Crisanta Katherine Knight—princess of Midveil and seventh-year student at Lady Agnue’s School for Princesses & Other Female Protagonists—is wanted by her majesty Queen Nadia of Alderon for treason against the kingdom and its citizens. The princess was last seen in Adelaide. If found, summon Arian Dark for collection. Her majesty Queen Nadia is offering five hundred gold pounds for proof of her death and one thousand gold pounds for her capture alive.”

  I blinked.

  That’s unfortunate.

  I knew that Arian and Nadia were after me and that trekking across Alderon would be dangerous. But having an obscenely large bounty on my head made things way dicier.

  Jason, Blue, and Daniel had similar problems. I read that Arian and Nadia were offering three hundred gold pounds for each of their heads, and six hundred gold pounds for their capture.

  One look at Goldilocks and I knew what she was thinking.

  I remained calm. I’d known there was a tremendous risk when I walked in here, but rescuing Daniel outweighed it.

  Wanting to stall until I had an opportunity to get his orb from the lobster monster, I settled against my high-backed chair.

  “Arian’s last name is Dark?” I huffed. “Isn’t that convenient.”

  “So are you, Crisanta Knight,” Goldilocks said as she took a bite from one of the biscuits on her plate. “I’ve been meaning to add another wing to my fortress. Turning you over to Nadia’s henchmen will give me enough money to build four.”

  I crossed my arms calmly. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. You’re interested in capturing me, and I get that. I’m interested in retrieving my friend, which your lunky lobster over there seems to have absorbed into one of his back bubbles. So before we duke it out—which is where we both know this is heading—how about you tell me what happened to him.”

  Goldilocks reached down and removed a weapon from her belt. It looked like a miniature crossbow, but it was two-pronged (built with two arrows meant to be fired simultaneously) and had a spool of thick silver lanyard on the back that connected the arrows. She held it up casually, admiring it.

  “All right,” she said. “That ‘lunky lobster’ is a Magistrake—a kind of energy stealer. It can convert any living creature into pure, clean-burning energy that’s more powerful than you can imagine. A single converted soul can fuel and light my entire compound for a month. And in Alderon—where late winter has up to fifteen hours of darkness a day—that kind of light is a precious commodity. So I trained this Magistrake to be my pet and use it to collect energy for me to use and sell.”

  “So the people it . . . absorbs . . .” I gulped. “Are they—”

  “Dead?” Goldilocks finished. “No. They’re alive. Not comfortable I imagine, but they’re still in there. At least until they’re used up by me or my clients.”

  A flurry of anger coursed through me. I was about to take out my wand, knife it up, and hurl it Blue-style at the girl across from me. But then the door opened at the other end of the room.

  “Goldi, dear?” An old woman with a pleasant face and beady eyes entered. “You almost forgot. You know how important the book is to me. If she doesn’t sign, my collection won’t be complete.” “Madge.” Goldilocks rolled her eyes. “She can’t stay like the others. I’m turning her over to that monster Arian.”

  The old woman, who was clutching a brown leather book against her crimson housecoat, approached the table. “But—”

  “No buts,” Goldilocks interrupted, but not without some compassion in her tone. “For one, it’s good business. Five hundred gold pounds is a lot of money. For another, it’s common sense. I don’t want to be on Arian’s bad side, let alone Nadia’s. This girl’s important to them both. I’m already sacrificing half the reward to feed your little fetish. Be grateful for that.”

  I listened to them talk. It was weird being discussed like this. Now I knew how a pig felt when a farmer bartered with a butcher over its selling price.

  “Even if she isn’t going to be a part of my collection, I still want her to sign the book. It’s tradition,” Madge argued.

  “Ugh, fine.” Goldilocks sighed and looked at me. “Would you mind?” She gestured at the book in Madge’s arms.

  Madge set the book down in front of me and flipped it open to where a quill and bookmark were waiting. I scanned the contents of the page. It was a collection of printed names followed by matching signatures and dates.

  A guestbook. But why?

  I looked up, dumbfounded. “I’m not sure how to respond to this,” I said, speaking the honest-to-goodness truth.

  “Please just sign it,” Goldilocks replied, exasperated. “Madge has a thing about collecting the signatures of our guests. It’s important to her. And since the woman practically raised me, it’s important for me to make her happy.”

  I blinked, even more confused.

  “Look, I’ll make you a deal.” Goldilocks reattached the mini crossbow to her belt and pushed her chair back from the table. She stood and strut across the room. When she reached the lobster—or Magistrake, or whatever—she swiftly removed Daniel’s orb from its back with a twist and a snap that didn’t seem to disturb the creature’s slumber. “Sign the book and whatever happens between you and I, I’ll let him go. I swear on every bear in here.”

  I looked around. There were at least twelve stuffed bears in the room. I wasn’t sure if that was enough reason to trust her, but I did know I wanted to save Daniel and signing a stupid guestbook didn’t seem like too high a price to pay.

  “Fine,” I said. “Give it here.” I slid the book closer to me. Picking up the quill, I added my name, the date, and my signature. I paused once I was done and curiously began flipping back through the pages. The last name I saw before Madge snapped the book shut was “Billy Weaver.”

  The strange old woman hugged the book again and smiled at me. I’d seen a lot of unsettling things today, but the contorted look of glee in her grin was definitely in the top three.

  “Here.” Goldilocks tossed me Daniel’s orb. I fumbled but caught it. The thing was smooth and thick like a kickball. But it was also vaguely moist and felt full like an egg. I weighed it in my hands for a beat before glancing back at Goldilocks. “How do I get him out?”

  “Water,” Goldilocks replied. “Just get it wet with cold water and the shell will melt. His soul will be freed and his body will rematerialize. Be careful though,” she said, eyeing the way I was toying with it. “Those things are impenetrable when they’re attached to the Magistrake, but once freed from its spine they’re vulnerable to being broken. And if that thing cracks even a little before you get it to water then your friend’s soul is kaput.”

  Alarmed, I set the orb on the table beside me. “I don’t suppose you could get me a glass
of water now, could you?” I asked icily.

  “That can wait,” Goldilocks said, strutting over to stand directly in front of me. “You and I have business to settle. There’s still the matter of me collecting the reward on your head.”

  “Oh, is that all?” I scoffed, watching her carefully.

  Goldilocks picked up Daniel’s orb from the table.

  “Hey!” I started to lunge forward, but Goldilocks held up her hand.

  “Relax. I’m just putting him here.” She moved to the center of the table and placed Daniel’s orb in one of the empty candleholders. “He’s more secure this way. Wouldn’t want your friend rolling off the table and splitting in half, would we? Besides, you still need to refuel before we fight.” Goldilocks gestured at the untouched tea and snacks she’d set out for me.

  “I’m sorry, what?”

  “I like my opponents to be at their best. It’s why I only hunt fully grown creatures and why I need you to fuel up,” Goldilocks explained.

  “You can’t be serious.”

  “Oh, but I am. Go on. I’ll wait. It’s not like you’re going anywhere.”

  I gazed at the snacks and tea. They sat there temptingly. I noticed that Madge was sitting on the table now—legs folded and crossed like a child during story time. She rocked back and forth grinning at me and also gesturing enthusiastically at the tea, whispering something under her breath that sounded like “roll doll, roll doll, roll doll.”

  “You know, I’d heard stories about how menacing you were,” I commented to Goldilocks. “But no one ever said anything about your demented mentor, Crazy Christine over here. What’s her deal?”